Read Online Redfield Farm: A Novel of the Underground Railroad by Judith Redline Coopey - Free Book Online Page B

between them coming across the dooryard, I knew.
    “Jesse, Ann, I want you to meet my wife, Melissa Finley,” Elias grinned.
    Jesse recovered first, striving to sound natural. “Well, eh, Elias, you old fox,” he said, with a careful sidelong look at me. “You never let on a thing.” He smiled, taking both of Melissa’s small, daintily gloved hands in his. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Finley.”
    Her eyes sparkled, even as she demurred. “And you, Mr. Redfield,” she smiled. She was young. Not more than twenty. And pretty. She turned to me. With great effort I recovered my composure enough to smile.
    “Yes! Melissa, is it? What a joy to meet you.”
    Melissa reached up and kissed my cheek. “Ann Redfield. I’m privileged to meet you. Elias has told me so much about you. He admires you so. I only hope I can come close to following your example.”
    Befuddled, I stepped back. I couldn’t look at Elias, who blithely took his wife’s arm and steered her toward the front door.
    “We can’t stay long,” he announced as they entered the parlor. “We’re making the rounds of introductions. We’ve got at least three more stops before dark.”
    “Yes, yes.” I replied. “It must be a whirlwind for you. But surely you have time for some pie. I baked this morning.”
    Elias lit up at the prospect of pie. “You’ll see, my dear,” he said to Melissa, “what I mean by ‘best cook in the settlement’.” He looked at me. Our eyes met for the first time, mine questioning, his unreadable. He turned to his pretty new wife, attentive to her every need.
    Well, I asked myself, what could his eyes reveal? ‘I’m sorry, Ann. I went away and fell in love? I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I couldn’t help myself?’ What could he say? What could anybody say? What is, is.
    Leaving Jesse to entertain our guests, I excused myself to the kitchen to make tea. Seeking refuge, I stepped blindly through the low door to the old cabin, almost bumping into Josiah, who stood in the kitchen, looking lost.
    “Josiah!” I whispered. “You’d better get on upstairs.”
    “I was waitin’ for you to come, Ann. So if I made any noise, no one would pay any mind.”
    “Well, you’d best go before someone takes it in their head to come out here.”
    “Yes’m. That be Elias Finley you so worried about?” He moved toward the stairway door.
    Sorry now that I hadn’t been more discreet, I whispered, “Yes.”
    “Who that woman?”
    “His wife.”
    Josiah looked at me, dumbfounded, his hand on the door latch. “He wife?” he whispered. “Did you say he wife?”
    I turned my back, pumped the kettle full, and set it over the fire. I got out four plates, placing them noisily to cover the sound of Josiah’s ascent. I cut the pie, made that morning from cherries I’d put by last summer. My hands shook. I stopped and held myself around the middle. I opened the cupboard and got out the tin of tea, took down Mama’s best teapot from the shelf, and filled it with boiling water. Cups. Saucers. Sugar. Cream. Tears. I wiped them away, fighting for control. I put the tea things on a pewter tray Nathaniel had given me for Christmas, carried it into the parlor, and placed it on a table.
    We ate quietly, Melissa chattering lightly about how beautiful Bedford County was. “This is the farthest west I’ve ever been. I’ve been east to Gettysburg, York, Lancaster, Chester and even to Philadelphia, but never west before.”
    Between sips of tea she looked around the parlor. When her eyes fell on Elias, I saw the exchange of loving glances. The visit was brief. Elias didn’t want the horses to get chilled. After a few more niceties, they were on their way.
    I cleared and rinsed the dishes, then dried my hands on my apron, took my coat from its peg, and stepped out into the waning afternoon. With nowhere else to go, I stumbled along the snowy path to the barn. Inside the cold, dark building I climbed the ladder to the hay mow and fell on